One Who Wanders (abiona) wrote,
One Who Wanders
abiona

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Am I empty display of skill?

Oh, god, what a world.

I am not uttering this phrase in a disgusted manner. I am (more or less) simply amused by things that occur around me, and the people I interact with. I walked over to Kirkland last night, intending to use the massive paper cutter there to chop off some excess board from an illustration (I was not doing a good job with scissors). As I peeked through the door to the drawing room, I heard voices and saw a painting up on the wall. Given the number of times that I've walked in on critiques before, I thought "oh, shit!" and immediately turned around to leave (despite it being what, ten-something at night?). But the two guys who were there invited me back in, so back in I went.

I shall refer to them as Mr. Prodigy and Mr. Tall. They were sitting in the middle of the room, talking about a collage that Mr. Prodigy was working on. Mr. Prodigy began anew by warning me that yes, he was more than slightly drunk (at this point I noticed the ever so inconspicuous glass bottles in brown paper bags). He then proceeded to hiccup, cursing that he had the hiccups like a "goddamn cartoon character."

He started talking about his collage. He was so passionate and so into it, it was both amusing and humbling. He was just moving all over and about it, gesturing with his hands, stroking the surface, explaining what he meant to do next, exclaiming that the one corner was just all fucked up, etc. etc. etc.

Every element had meaning to him, it was a puzzle, it was a statement. From the potato chip bag to the thrown on paint, he knew what he was saying with his work.

What a world, what a world.

So, my sophomore review was today. It went by pretty quickly and my body of tangible work was hardly looked at, because I think what they were going to say was a conclusion that had been arrived at long ago - don't worry about studio art. Be art history. I shouldn't make studio art a roadblock or my focus, because it shouldn't be. I should let it remain what it truly is for me, a hobby that I dabble in. Over and over again, they said that my passion was clearly in my writing and in art history, and that the paper I had written on Hokusai had blown them away, and so on.

Having realized that I was fighting an uphill, losing battle, I don't really mind now. I suppose to some extent it'll be easier this way - once I've fulfilled my studio art requirements (much more quickly than it would be if I were a BFA), I can continue to draw as I wish, which is good because I was never very happy with compromising to begin with.


Random questions:
Who the hell puts applesauce and an attempt at chocolate mousse together with one of those bright red cherries on top?

Has anyone else noticed that Toonami's Tom gets more butch and super-heroey with each redesign?

How do squirrels climb up trees so nimbly?
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